While they were eating, Tanner said, “You work for a very fine company, Tokyo First Industrial.”
“Thank you.”
“How long have you worked there?”
“Ten years.”
“That’s a long time.” He looked Akira Iso in the eye and said, “In fact, it might be time to make a change.”
“Why would I want to do that, Mr. Kingsley?”
“Because I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse. I don’t know how much money you make, but I am willing to pay you twice as much to leave them and come to work for KIG.”
“Mr. Kingsley, that is not possible.”
“Why not? If it’s because of a contract, I can arrange—”
Akira Iso put down his chopsticks. “Mr. Kingsley, in Japan, when we work for a company, it is like a family. And when we can no longer work, they take care of us.”
“But the money I’m offering you—”
“No. Aisha seishin.”
“What?”
“It means that we put loyalty above money.” Akira Iso looked at him curiously. “Why did you choose me?”
“Because I’ve heard very flattering things about you.”
“I’m afraid you have taken a long trip for nothing, Mr. Kingsley. I would never leave Tokyo First Industrial.”
“It was worth a try.”
“There are no hard feelings?”
Tanner leaned back and laughed. “Of course not. I wish all my employees were as loyal as you are.” He remembered something. “By the way, I brought you and your family a little gift. An associate of mine will bring it to you. He’ll be at your hotel in an hour. His name is Harry Flint.”
A NIGHT MAID found Akira Iso’s body hanging from a hook in a wardrobe chest. The official verdict was suicide.
Chapter 24
THE MANDARIN HOTEL was a seedy, two-story building in the heart of Manhattan’s Chinatown, three blocks from Mott Street.
As Kelly and Diane got out of the taxi, Diane saw a large billboard across the street with a picture of Kelly in a beautiful evening gown, holding up a bottle of perfume. Diane looked at it in surprise. “That’s who you are.”
“You’re wrong,” Kelly said. “That’s what I do, Mrs. Stevens. It’s not who I am.” She turned and walked into the lobby, and an exasperated Diane followed.
A Chinese clerk was seated behind a desk in the small hotel lobby, reading a copy of the China Post.
“We would like a room for the night,” Diane said.
The clerk glanced up at the two elegantly dressed women and almost said aloud, Here? He rose. “Certainly.” He took a closer look at their designer clothes. “That will be a hundred dollars a night.”
Kelly looked at him, shocked. “A hun—?”
Diane said quickly, “That will be fine.”
“In advance.”
Diane opened her purse, took out some bills, and gave them to the clerk. He handed her a key.
“Room ten, straight down the hall, on the left. Do you have luggage?”
“It’s coming,” Diane told him.
“If you need anything, just ask for Ling.”
Kelly said, “Ling?”
“Yes. She’s your chambermaid.”
Kelly gave him a skeptical look. “Right.”
The two women started down the dreary, dimly lit hallway.
“You paid too much,” Kelly said.
“What’s a safe roof over your head worth?”
“I’m not so sure this place is such a good idea,” Kelly said.
“It will have to do until we think of something better. Don’t worry. Mr. Kingsley will take care of us.”
When they reached number ten, Diane unlocked the door and they stepped inside. The small room looked and smelled as though it had been unoccupied for a long time. There were twin beds with rumpled bedcovers and two worn chairs next to a scarred desk.
Kelly looked around. “It may be small, but it sure is ugly. I’ll bet it’s never been cleaned.” She touched a cushion and watched the dust rise. “I wonder how long ago Ling passed away.”
“It’s only for tonight,” Diane assured her. “I’m going to phone Mr. Kingsley now.”
Kelly watched as Diane went to the telephone and called the number on the card that Tanner Kingsley had given her.
The call was answered immediately. “Tanner Kingsley.”
Diane sighed in relief. “Mr. Kingsley, this is Diane Stevens. I’m sorry to bother you, but Kelly Harris and I need your help. Someone is trying to kill us and we have no idea what’s going on. We’re on the run.”
“I’m very glad you called, Mrs. Stevens. You can relax. We just found out what’s behind all this. You won’t have any more problems. I can assure you that from now on, both you and Mrs. Harris will be perfectly safe.”
Diane closed her eyes for an instant. Thank God. “Can you tell me who—?”
“I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. Stay where you are. I’ll have someone there to pick you up in thirty minutes.”
“That’s—” The connection was broken. Diane replaced the receiver and turned to Kelly, grinning. “Good news! Our problems are over.”
“What did he say?”
“He knows what’s behind all this and he says from now on, we’re safe.”
Kelly gave a deep sigh. “Great. Now I can go back to Paris and start my life over again.”
“He’s sending someone to pick us up in half an hour.”
Kelly looked around the dingy room. “It will sure be hard to leave all this.”
Diane turned to her and said wistfully, “It’s going to be strange.”
“What is?”
“Going back to a life without Richard. I can’t imagine how I’ll be able to—”
“Then don’t,” Kelly snapped. Don’t take me there, lady, or I’ll fall apart. I can’t even think about it. Mark was my whole life, my only reason for living…
Diane looked at Kelly’s emotionless expression and thought, She’s like a lifeless work of art—beautiful and cold.
KELLY WAS SEATED on one of the beds, her back to Diane. She closed her eyes against the pain inside her and slowly…slowly…slowly…
SHE WAS WALKING along the Left Bank with Mark, chatting about everything and nothing. Kelly felt that she had never been so completely comfortable with anyone before.
She said to Mark, “Tomorrow evening there’s a gallery opening if you’re interested in—”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Kelly. Tomorrow night I’m busy.”
Kelly felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. “Going on another date?” She tried to keep her tone light.
“No. No. I’m going alone. It’s a banquet—” He saw the look on Kelly’s face. “I—I mean it’s just a dinner for scientists. You’d be bored.”
“Would I?”
“I’m afraid so. There—there will be a lot of words you’ve probably never heard before and—”
“I think I’ve heard them all,” Kelly said, piqued. “Why don’t you try me?”
“Well, I don’t really think—”
“I’m a big girl. Go ahead.”
He sighed. “All right. Anatripsology…malacostracology…aneroidograph…term ag—”
“Oh,” Kelly said, taken aback. “Those kinds of words.”
“I knew you wouldn’t be interested. I—”
“You were wrong. I am.” Because you’re interested.
THE BANQUET WAS held at the Hotel Prince de Galles and turned out to be a major event. There were three hundred people in the ballroom, among them some of the most important dignitaries of France. One of the guests at the front table where Kelly and Mark were seated was an attractive man with a warm, engaging personality.
“I’m Sam Meadows,” he said to Kelly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Kelly replied. “Mark says you’re his mentor and best friend.”
Sam Meadows smiled. “I’m honored to be his friend. Mark is a very special person. We’ve worked together for a long time. He’s the most dedicated—”
Mark was listening, embarrassed. “Would you like some wine?” he interrupted.
The master of ceremonies appeared onstage, and the speeches began. Mark had been right about the evening being uninteresting for Kelly. Technical scientific prizes were being awarded, and as far as Kelly was concerned, the speakers could all have been talking in Swahili. But Kelly watched the enthusiasm on Mark’s face, and she was glad she was there.
When the dinner plates had been cleared, the president of the French Académie des Sciences appeared onstage. He began by praising the scientific accomplishments that France had made in the past year, and it was not until the end of his speech, when he held up a gold statuette and called out Mark Harris’s name, that Kelly realized that Mark was the star of the evening. He had been too modest to tell her. That’s why he tried to talk me out of coming. Kelly watched Mark get up and go onstage as the audience warmly applauded him.
“He never said a word to me about this,” Kelly told Sam Meadows.
Meadows smiled. “That’s Mark.” He studied Kelly a moment. “You know he’s madly in love with you. He wants to marry you.” He paused and said pointedly, “I hope he doesn’t get hurt.”
And as Kelly listened, she felt a sudden rush of guilt. I can’t marry Mark. He’s a dear friend, but I’m not in love with him. What have I been doing? I don’t want to hurt him. It’s better if I stop seeing him. I can never give a man what he would expect from a woman. How am I going to tell—?